


The Aod

by Marcus_S



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Autism Spectrum, Charity sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dead Character, Euphemisms, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Intimacy, Masturbation, Menopause, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Old Age, Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Possible PMT, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex Education, Sex Toys, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Simultaneous Orgasm, amenhorrea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_S/pseuds/Marcus_S
Summary: Lady Me helps Clara with a little problem.
Relationships: Ashildr | Lady Me/Clara Oswin Oswald
Kudos: 6





	The Aod

**Author's Note:**

> The original characters and concepts belong to the BBC but otherwise this work is © Marcus Stanson 2020

Ashildr/Lady Me and Clara had left The Doctor and been travelling for about six weeks when Clara asked Me for a chat in the library.

“Clara you’ve got your serious face on, so I know there’s a problem, so spit it out there’s a good girl”.

Clara found Me could at times be just a bit blunt, a sort of arrogant directness that came over as slightly aggressive even if she was pretty sure Me didn’t mean it that way. Was she mildly autistic, or was it just the result of being several billion years old. She thought the latter had to have an impact on you in a number of ways. Still Me also had a point, she had asked for the meeting for ‘a discussion’, which made it seem more serious than just raising the subject in normal conversation and it was a conversation she didn’t want to have interrupted. That was one of the problems with life on a TARDIS, sometimes you wanted a bit of peace and quiet for breakfast and instead you ended up saving another imperilled planet on an empty stomach. Somehow this rule didn’t seem to apply to the library, it was as though their TARDIS had some sort of ‘Do not disturb’ function that kicked in if you went into the library and shut the door.

So here they were, the door was shut and Clara was still ever so slightly waiting to open the conversation. Me was leaning back in her chair and just giving her the look that said ‘You have to say it eventually’.

“It’s all a bit embarrassing”.

“For you obviously, remember how old I am, embarrassment at just about anything disappeared in the first few hundred years, by the time I’d passed the first couple of millennia it was ‘Seen it, done it, got the scars, bites, T-shirt, with or without stains of whatever fluid; and after what we’ve done together I didn’t think we still had trust issues”.

“We don’t, I trust you implicitly, with my life and everything else besides”.

“Then trust me to give you an honest answer but in a way that won’t hurt any more than is absolutely avoidable”.

“I’m getting really really horny and I haven’t had my monthlies and one or the other’s making me really irritable and this isn’t a pass at you because although I do think you’re stunningly beautiful I’m just not into other girls”. Clara realised the words had flooded out in a rather orgasmic rush, but at least she’d got it said.

Me got up and crossed over to the chaise Clara was sitting on and sat down beside her. She put her arm round her, pulled her head onto one shoulder and gave her a gentle hug. Clara still felt stiff and tense. “Right lets break this down into the constituent parts; you’re amenorrheic, sexually frustrated and uncertain about our relationship, is that all or is there something else, because if that’s all I think we can sort it out fairly simply”. Me squeezed Clara just a little bit harder then let go and sat up looking at her.

“Yes and no, no there’s nothing else; yes, the fact that I’m getting worked up about ‘it’ is almost as bad as the ‘it’. I’m a grown woman, I’ve had my fair share of justifiable stress with The Doctor over the years. I even used to teach the Sex Ed and Relationships class because half the rest of the staffroom got embarrassed if one of the kids asked something direct like “So do you wank a lot miss”, but suddenly I don’t seem to be able to cope with some of the everyday things in life”.

“Clara, six weeks ago you discovered you were technically dead, despite which you’re sat here having this conversation with me. I’d say that was a pretty big upset in your life and when we’ve sorted the other little things out, you’ll still have it to cope with, but the little things we can fix”. Me paused and looked at Clara, scooted up to the end of the chaise and motioned Clara towards her. “Come on lie down, put your head on my lap and just slow your breathing a bit”.

Clara did as she was told, and as she thought about the pace of her breathing realised Me was right she was borderline hyperventilating, which was odd for someone who was technically dead. Me’s hand brushed some hair off her head and gently stroked her cheek.

“Feeling a bit more relaxed”.

“Yes”.

“Good, so now let’s start at the beginning, you’re dead so you don’t really function do you, you’re sort of in suspended animation, but this makes you mentally uncomfortable so you simulate life to make yourself feel more comfortable. You started on day one eating and drinking, and to avoid something ridiculous happening your body seems to be going along with it, so you still use the bathroom. You breath more and more, it’s clearly something you think about more and more and somehow that’s almost pushing your body back to its autonomous pattern, but your heart sill doesn’t beat does it”.

“No”.

“So like your heart, your uterus is frozen at whatever day of your cycle you were on the day that you became suspended. I suppose you should be relieved you weren’t in mid bleed, the way your subconscious mind is trying to ignore the fact you’re dead you might have kept going”.

“My conscious mind is trying to ignore my death as well Me so can you not be so blunt about it”.

“Sorry, that’s old age I suppose, I’ve heard every euphemism for everything any human could ever want to use a euphemism for so many times it gets boring when it’s the fiftieth iteration. Is it the toilet, lavatory, loo, powder room, bathroom, crapper, little room, water closet. I could go on, there’s all the foreign versions as if they make it any less obvious. Language is about communication, if you want to be able to ask to go there or where it is, you need to use a word that other people understand. Sorry now I’m ranting”.

“It’s alright and you’re right and it makes me realise that I’m actually just being a bit silly”. Clara started to pull herself upright, but Me’s firm hand on her shoulder kept her where she was.

“No you’re not being silly, these are real problems in your head and if they’re real in your head they need sorting out and I’m a friend so I’m going to help you sort them out, which brings us onto the subject of our relationship. I’ve tried women, I’ve tried men, I’ve tried a few non-humans including hermaphrodites but somewhere along the line it all got stale and either, while not dying, I am getting older, or out of sheer boredom, everything just died out. I haven’t had a monthly either for literally longer than I can remember, nor have I had sex for just as long. So I’m glad you aren’t into girls, because I really would be doing it as charity sex. I like to touch and hug and snuggle, we can do that whenever you like, it’s like chimps picking flees, it’s a sociable thing not a sexual one, but my days of pulling funny faces and gasping for breath are over”.

Clara rolled over onto her back and looked up at me “Thank you, that all makes me feel a lot better and I’m really comfy down here and it does feel really good, but there is still a bit of me with a bit of an itch that makes this physical proximity a bit of a double edged sword, it’s nice but it’s not sex and I still want sex”. Clara’s voice had become just a little strained during the last sentence

“You said you’re not shy about discussing wanking so I assume you’re not shy about doing it either, but I take it it isn’t enough”.

“No, it doesn’t have the intimacy, it’s better than nothing but it’s still not enough to let me relax. As you say there are probably bigger things going on in my head, but at the moment they are manifesting as a problem with my lack of adequate sexual satisfaction despite actually achieving orgasm and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Lay still”. Me slid gently out from underneath Clara and left the library. She returned about five minutes later with a small plastic injector device in her hand. Clara looked at the device and cocked her head in a questioning manner as she sat up.

“I trust you implicitly, but I’m sure you can tell me before you inject whatever it is”.

“It’s an Aod [Autonomous orgasmic device] a tiny intelligent neural feedback system. It will analyse your brain patterns, conscious and sub-conscious and respond directly at the neural level. Of course your body may then respond in physical ways, or in your condition it might not, I genuinely don’t know about that, so you’re experimenting a bit there, but the important bit is that in your mind you will get exactly the satisfaction you were looking for every time”.

“That sounds too good to be true”.

“Try it, I can always take it out, this is a TARDIS, the medibay’s not some hick 35th Century butcher’s shop, with laser scalpels you know”.

“How do I control it”.

“You don’t and you don’t need to. You’re worrying about it going off at inappropriate times aren’t you”.

“Well yes, I mean there’s the obvious, running away from monsters moments, but I suppose I’m also not a hundred percent sure I trust my subconscious”.

Me laughed “This is billennial technology, it can tell the difference between one sort of excitement and another, so it won’t give you a knee trembling orgasm in front of a man you’ve just met because you think he’s hunky and you might want to do things with later in a more appropriate situation, it will wait for later. If he turns out to be the ‘Wham bam thank you mam’ sort however you’ll never notice at the time, but you will realise later”.

“What you’re saying if a man and I have bad sex it will make it good for me, but then leave a sort of post coital message going ‘That wasn’t him that was me’ in my head”.

“Pretty much and it is very subtle but equally unmistakeable”.

“You sound like you’ve used one before”.

“For millennia, but in the end even it couldn’t keep the ennui at bay so I took it out and popped it in a cupboard for eventualities”. Just for second Clara was sitting still and Me popped the injector to the back of her head and squeezed gently.

“So hang on a minute, you’re telling me the thing you just stuck in me is second hand”.

“And some, I had it from a Time Lord on his eighth regeneration, who got it from a shapeshifter who’d previously dated River Song, don’t fret I wiped it with cleaning solution first”.

“Does it have a memory”.

“Who knows, intelligence usually requires memory, otherwise learning is impossible so by implication it must have, but if you’re worried you’ll suddenly find yourself aware of my sexual history and know it’s me, I never experienced anything like that. Look you said you trusted me, so give it a try and if you find anything you don’t like ask me and it comes straight out”.

“I suppose it should be OK, suppose it decides my subconscious does fancy you”.

“Then I’ll lie back and think of Gallifrey while I let you have charity sex”. Clara laughed which made Me smile.

\------------------------

Another six weeks, eight more defeated aliens and one impossibly beautiful triple sunrise later Clara was laid on the chaise in the library with her head on Me’s lap. “It really is that good isn’t it”. Twice in the previous weeks Me had been treated to the sounds of Clara’s having a loud and energetic orgasm, lots of ‘Oh God’s', and a final ‘Yes, yes, YES!’, clearly she had exhibitionist tendencies and the Aod was allowing her to express them. 

“Mmmmmmm”.

Me recognised that version of ‘Mmmm’, the slightly rhythmic pitch change to the simple sound “The little orgasms like the tiniest wave running up the beach and tickling your toes that just go on and on so you never get tired but feel permanently satiated”.

“Mmmmmmm”.

“See that’s how good it is, it knows you, it’s letting you enjoy yourself and it’s avoiding the need for me to have to join in”.

“Mmmmmmm”.

You’re not really listening to me are you Clara”.

“Mmmmmmm”.

Me leaned back, the Aod was good, having Clara’s head on her lap just snuggling was making Me feel relaxed as well and the Aod was in Clara’s head. The next time was in synchrony.

“Mmmmmmm”.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments, positive or negative, or I feel like I’m performing a monologue in an empty theatre


End file.
